


Oak tree

by SORD



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:13:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SORD/pseuds/SORD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorry, sweetheart, I'm a little late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oak tree

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to fanfiction.net. Ugh.

It was strange, he thought, how people look smaller once they're dead, like life had given them an extra inch, another pound or two. It was probably that the living were constantly in motion, even at rest, and so seemed up more space. Or something like that. Maybe not. He didn't really feel like figuring it out right now; he didn't really feel much at all right now.

She was down on both knees with her back against an enormous oak. Her head was bowed and her shoulders sagged forward a little but otherwise she had her usual perfect posture. Back ramrod-straight, legs parallel. Ready to stand and fight.

There was a long strip of metal piercing the tree, and also her torso. Her jaw was slack, blood spilling over her lower lip. She was still. Her eyes were open.

It was awful.

Weren't dead people supposed to have their eyes shut? Or at least clouded over? What were "clouded over" eyes supposed to look like? Wasn't the "light behind them" supposed to fade? He'd never noticed any particular light coming out of her eyes. They were just eyes. They weren't any different from anyone else's, except that they were hers.

Her eyes were open and they looked like they always did, except that there was a fly on one. It crawled across the sclera. She should shoo it away, that had to be uncomfortable.

She didn't shoo it away, though, because she was dead, so she couldn't. 

When he was little, he had been playing ninja with his mother's utility knife, and had sliced his index finger straight to the bone. He remembered looking at it and feeling queasy. There wasn't any pain. 

He didn't really feel anything then, and he didn't really feel anything now. Shock, he guessed. What's the treatment for shock? A blanket? Rest? Screaming?

Behind him, Naruto was sobbing. He hadn't known her, not really, he was just crying because he had met her a few times and now she was dead. He treated an introduction like a declaration of love. He shed indiscriminate tears. 

"Don't cry."

Naruto's breath hitched. His disgusting weeping paused. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Gross. 

"You don't have the right to cry for her."

Now everyone was watching him. It was really awkward.

"You don't deserve to cry for her. We don't deserve to cry for her. She was better than that." 

She was proud and angry and sharp like a shard of glass, and you didn't cry when a mirror broke. You didn't cry when you found a dead hawk. You didn't cry when you were a little kid with a sliced-up hand. You just looked at it and felt sick. 

Later on her brothers would cry for her, or they wouldn't. Their choice. For now he stood still, like a doe facing danger, and sent out his shadow. Dark tendrils pulled the stake out of her lung. The sound made him drop to his knees. 

Nobody said anything, and he was glad. He threw up quietly, and then carried her home.


End file.
